I Acknowledge Me
by TipsyKitsune
Summary: All the demon brat wanted was to die. Now, he gets the chance. His life is finally in his hands. One-shot. Warning: self-harm, suicide, character death


**WARNING: Self-harm, Suicide, Character Death**

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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The blade is heavy in my hands. I study the hilt, a beautiful design of owls. How ironic that they choose now to grace me with their protection. The metal is a deep silver color, reflecting off the damp, low light of the cell I'm in.

Turning the point towards myself, I know it will soon be over. I can't help but smile: this was the first time my life was in my hands.

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The first time I wanted to die, I was only six. On the night of my birthday, I hid from the bad men. Tucked away beneath my bed, I hugged my legs and rocked back and forth but not enough for the floorboards to squeak. If I was silent enough, there was no way they would find me, right? With the banging sound on my door, I knew that they were there. This birthday would be no better than the last. The shatter of glass informed me that there was no escape out of the window. I was surrounded.

Being dragged away with rough hands, I had already accepted my fate.

_Fate_. What did that mean? Neji had spouted words about fate left and right. Perhaps he was right. In the end there is one fate we all share: death.

That night reeked of alcohol, semen, and urine. My apartment had been trashed, and everything of value destroyed. My own clothes tattered, and body torn. Bruises and cuts littered my skin, and my heart screamed in pain.

Picking myself off of the floor, I climbed into the tub and fingered the sharp piece of broken window glass. The villagers had said I was a monster. I was a demon brat who didn't belong anywhere. Slowly, I held it above my wrist. Living in the Red-Light District, you see many things. One of those things happens to be how to take your own life. I wanted the pain in my heart to end. Slicing the vein, I sighed with content. I hated me. Now I could be at peace.

Or so I thought.

The blood stopped flowing out not even seconds later. Washing my wrist, I observed the pristine skin that was clad over my vein. I couldn't believe it. Stabbing with the glass again and again until my arm was shredded beyond recognition, I watched the skin knit together and the blood dry out.

With the festival dying down, I cried to myself in the silence. Perhaps I really was the demon they claimed me to be. The hoot of an owl mocked my tears.

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The second time I wanted to die, I was ten. I had transferred to Iruka-sensei's class. I thought it would be different. I thought he would be different. But he looked at me with those hollow eyes – those hollow, uncaring eyes.

I started my morning the way I did every morning. After I discovered something prevented me from taking my life, I found a new way to ease the pain. The nightmares always haunted me. The feeling of metal running across my arms soothed me. Watching the crimson tears fall from my skin helped me forget for a bit that I was a worthless demon brat. But like every time before, it was only temporary. The skin soon closed up, and I was late.

Making my way to class, the glares I received hurt me more than I let on. Being tardy to class didn't make Iruka-sensei notice me. Nothing made him notice me.

The bullies that day made me their target. They said they would be my friends if I went into the backwoods and brought back spoils from a corpse their parents had killed. I was so desperate for friends that I accepted right away. So, after lunch, I snuck out and made my way to the forest to look for the body of an enemy.

It turned out that the enemy – correction – the three enemies were very much alive and combat ready. They attacked me head on. I ran for my life tripping over my feet collecting cuts and bruises, and thankfully, a silver-haired shinobi saved me. Why did he come to save me? I was grateful of course, but was it worth risking his life to save a monster like me?

That day, I had a small sliver of hope that Iruka-sensei would care enough to save me, but he never showed. My teachers did not care for me. My classmates did not care for me. The villagers did not care for me. I had almost died. _I had almost died, _and the only one who cared was some unknown ninja – if he actually cared that is. This demon was just a burden to the village. I just wanted this feeling – this loathing – to go away. It might have been better if the three ninja had succeeded in killing me. It might be better if I finished what they began. If physical attacks did not work, I would just need a different approach.

Opening my cabinet, I grabbed the bottles of pills stacked neatly. Living in the Red-Light District, you find many things. Some of those things happen to be discarded bottles of drugs. Dumping every bottle into an old ramen cup, it was soon filled to the brim. The poisons made their way through my body with each gulp of water: dozens of capsules travel down my throat. Lying down on my bed, I sighed with content. I hated me. Now I could be at peace.

Or so I thought.

Groggily, I came back to my senses during the dead of night. After I stumbled to the bathroom, all of the toxins I had forced into my body were forced out. The smell of vomit filled the air. I stared at the acid for hours, not understanding how I could possibly be there at that moment. By some magic – or in my case, demonic powers – my cup of ramen had condensed into a pouch of poison waiting to be puked out.

With the acrid scent lingering in the air, I cried to myself in the silence. Did Kami not care enough to let me die? The hoot of an owl mocked my tears.

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The third time I wanted to die, I was battling Sasuke. After chasing him for who knows how long, we faced each other in the Valley of the End. I had promised Sakura-chan that I would bring him back. I couldn't break that promise. Strength coursed through my veins. I couldn't fail.

Sasuke was my brother. He had felt the same loneliness as I did. Each punch I threw was a testament to how much I cared for him, but each punch he threw back was a message that he would never respect me.

I had thought we were friends, but I guess even that was only a lie I had convinced myself of. A demon, especially the Kyuubi, deserved no friends.

Broken were my dreams of having a team that stuck together like family. Broken were my promises that I said I would always keep. I already knew it the moment we began our combat. This Sasuke was not the same Sasuke that Sakura-chan liked and would never be the same Sasuke, and no matter how hard I fought, I would never be able to fulfill my promise. The Sasuke we knew was gone.

Sasuke's Chidori was aimed for my heart. I knew that this was the end. Friends did not kill each other, which meant that I never had a friend in Sasuke: I never had friends at all. When his arm retracted from my body, I could feel my life ebbing away. Maybe I was where I was meant to belong, swept away like a forgotten memory. Falling into the depths of the river, I sighed with content. I hated me. Now I could be at peace.

Or so I thought.

The demon fox refused to die. He supplied my body with more chakra than he had ever done before. There was nothing I could do but rise out of the water, wounds fully healed, and fight again. So, we fought until the last attack. Sasuke left me there. He left our village. He left our team. He left our friendship that never was.

With the roaring of the waterfall, I cried to myself. A monster has no right to have friends. The hoot of an owl mocked my tears.

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The fourth time I wanted to die, I had been facing the council. Instead of a hospital bed, I woke up to the glares of the old men and women who did not trust me to contain the beast within. They decided to transfer it to a better vessel. Even if they were going behind the backs of Ero-sennin and Tsunade-baa-chan, I just didn't care anymore. I had failed to bring back Sasuke, and I had failed to rein in the demon. I deserved this punishment.

They led me deep underground. A geezer by the name of Danzo was performing the switch. We entered a stone room with two sealing altars placed within. I lay down on one. The other was soon occupied with a newborn babe.

Pain seared throughout me as it felt like my insides were being forcefully ripped out. Apparently, there were complications because I could hear the whispers of a key and I could feel that the bulge rising from my stomach had stopped. The pain never ceased.

The hurt was justified. A demon should be punished.

I understood that I was not actually the demon fox within me. However, with years of insults thrown in your face, they are ingrained in you like the truth. I did not see myself as anything more than the monster they claimed I was.

When I had receded to the recesses of my mindscape from the prolonged agony, I came face to face with the Kyuubi. He roared at me, saying I was weak for letting them rip him out of me. He said he was glad that he might be getting a better container. He said that I deserved every ounce of pain from the extraction process. He said that I would be dead once he was gone.

Without a word, I watched as the gates suddenly shattered. The Kyuubi lunged for me, but an outside force pulled him away. Soon, I was left alone. Loneliness was my punishment, but alone, I wouldn't be a bother to anyone. Closing my eyes, I sighed with content. I hated me. Now I could be at peace.

Or so I thought.

I came to, drenched in sweat. The surprise could not be hidden from the geezer's face when he saw me open my eyes. I stared back at him and heard the talks of Uzumaki vitality, whatever that might have meant.

With the masked faces surrounding me, I cried to myself. Was life now my punishment? Though there was not a hoot, an owl mask mocked my tears.

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When I asked of it, they led me to another cell and provided me with a sword. They acknowledged that the demon brat wanted to die.

Is there anybody that would care if I was gone? Iruka-sensei acknowledged me. He had said that I was Uzumaki Naruto of Konoha. He had said that I was not a demon. He said that I belonged. I wish that I could believe him. When did he even begin to care? I was the monster who killed his parents.

I knelt down on the cold, hard stones and placed the sword before me. My body had never felt so weak. I could barely pick up the sword, and my muscles protested with every twitch.

This is the last time I will want to die. Grasping the handle I just studied, I plunge it into my stomach and drag it left to right.

Who else would notice my absence? Ero-sennin and Tsunade-baa-chan acknowledged me. Ero-sennin taught me more than Kakashi-sensei ever did, and Baa-chan loved me like a little brother. I wasn't a burden to them. I wish a demon could return their love. Did they really love the demon brat? It must be fake. I only remind them of those they lost. They don't even know me.

I remove the blade from my abdomen. Pointing it towards my heart, I give one last prayer. If there really is a Kami, I hope that he'll let me die. The blade acknowledges me. The cold metal kisses the faintly beating organ. There is no more Kyuubi to heal my wounds. The cut will be there for eternity. My life – and death – is finally in my hands.

As my blood flows out, white overtakes me, and I am free. Perhaps it is time to let go of my hatred.

**I acknowledge me.**

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**A/N**

**This came to me a couple days ago, so I had to write it down. **

**One thing I really tried to focus on here was repetition and themes.  
For example, the owls were meant for him to question himself. In Japanese the word _owl_ (fukurou) can also mean _no_ (fu) _suffering_ (kurou). Therefore, owls are seen as protectors from suffering.  
**

**I hope you enjoyed it because it was really interesting to write. **

**\- TK**


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